


Telling Stories

by edibleflowers



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 16:34:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5633566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edibleflowers/pseuds/edibleflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Did you know people write stories about us?" Tony began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Telling Stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lemniskate67](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemniskate67/gifts).



> Happy birthday to the endlessly wonderful lemniskate67.

"Did you know people write stories about us?" Tony began with a non sequitur as he always seemed to, one-handedly vaulting himself over the back of the couch to settle right in the middle, between Natasha and Clint on one side and Steve on the other. 

"Pipe down, I'm watching this," Clint said.

"Its called the media," Natasha put in, reaching for the bowl of popcorn before Tony could take it for himself. "I think you might have heard of it once or twice."

"That's not what I mean. I'm talking about just -- normal people, on the Internet."

"Is there any such thing?" Clint pointedly raised the volume, though the movie was in the middle of a quiet scene and didn't have much volume to raise. Ignoring him, Tony took a huge handful of popcorn from the bowl and tossed a couple of pieces into his mouth.

"They write about us like -- like we're characters in a story," Tony went on. "Like, a two-second acknowledgement we're real people and then..."

"That's nothing new either," Steve put in, wry. "You know there were Captain America comics coming out in the Forties, and they're still doing it now. Only now it's with our permission. And the toys and all that." He waved a hand, aware he wasn't fully up to date on what other merchandising possibilities had been exploited in the name of the Avengers.

"Fine," Tony said, clearly put out. "As long as it doesn't bother you that people are writing about you and me having sex."

Clint spit out the mouthful of beer he'd just begun to swallow; Steve's eyes went wide and his face red. Only Natasha's expression remained maddeningly serene.

* * *

"Do -- do people really _do_ that?" Steve found himself asking Natasha later. He'd retreated to the patio, needing the cool evening air to calm himself down; after a while, Natasha had wandered out, casually settling near him at the railing. Ostensibly to get some air, but Steve didn't really mind her checking on him.

"Do what?" she asked, innocent, tilting her head a little as she looked toward him. "The fanfiction?"

"Is that what it's called?"

"Mm." She smiled briefly, looked back out at the New York night again. "They do. It's meant to be -- well, who knows what it's meant to be. As far as I can tell, it's mostly done out of adoration and love. The intent may not meet the results, but the people who write it are fans of ours. Fans of whatever they write. They read up on the subject, they study it."

Having been the subject of more than a few studies since the day he'd been transformed into the man he now was, Steve couldn't help a little shudder. "And they express it by... writing about us... having sex with each other."

"Sometimes." He could feel Natasha's eyes on him again, watchful and patient. "Sometimes not. It's not something you should concern yourself with if it bothers you, though, Steve."

"Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm bothered or... or what," he finished, lame. "I mean, I can't see myself doing that, but I guess I can understand being a fan. Loving something that much?"

Her eyes were softer, now, when he looked over at her again. "What?" he asked. 

Natasha's lips curved in a little smile. "I suppose I wasn't expecting that answer from you," she said. "Most people get creeped out when they realize other people are fantasizing about them, writing it down."

"It bothers you," he said.

She shrugged, eyes darting away and back. "Only that I'd rather they didn't know I existed at all. I'm used to people thinking of me that way, but generally only when. Well, when I've let them see me for whatever reason." 

Steve found an unexpected smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Can't hide your identity when you're an Avenger, can you?"

"Not quite as well, no."

Rueful now, the curve of her lips, the high arch of her cheekbones. Steve bit his lip, let his hand rest by hers on the railing. "I don't suppose any of those stories are about you and me."

Natasha's slow inhalation was a thing of beauty. "I... imagine there might be one or two."

"You didn't look?" He watched their hands, so close, not touching. The delicate curve of her fingers on the rail, her perfectly manicured fingernail. He knew how well those hands could take a man down, could incapacitate and wound and even kill without hesitation. Now, he thought he saw the slightest tremble there.

"Nope." She glanced up at him again, and at the same time her fingers slid over his. "I'd rather have reality any day."

"Reality works for me," Steve managed to say, turning his hand under hers and bending his neck downward. Natasha's lips turned out to be just as soft as he thought they'd be.


End file.
